The Olneyville times. (Olneyville [Providence, R.I.]) 1887-1917, 1887-09-24

Highly Educated women Who Voluntarily
Ernnunred IlInf. pleaanrcs.

| Highly Educated Women Who Voluntarily
/ Kenounced Life's Pleasures.
But Of all the inhabitants Of the con-
vent, none appealed 10 me 50 strongly
as Sister Marie Augustine. In my life
! have never seen more perfect face
and form; even the nuns dress could
not conceal their beauty. Tall and
! slight, her every gesture was queenly;
! her eyes were large and Of the deepest
! violet; Ecr delicate patrician features
! would have been almost too -tatucsque
| in their perfect lovclino IS, If IL had not
/ been for the rich lips and clear bright
! color If her checks, which glOwcd with
perfect health. She played the organ
with a skill that proved her an accom-
! plishcd musician. English and Italian.
as well ~ French, she spoke with ease,
| and often wondered what could have
! driven her from a world where she was
so well fitted 10 play brilliant part.
/ ! never dared 10 ask. but later heard
accidentally that. Immediately before
/ she entered the convent, she had passed
some time AT court rs maid of honor To
the Empress Eugcnic. Had she started
back in horror from "A world such as
| She learned 10 know il there? Or had
some tragedy frightened her awayP
Sister Elizabeth wa, the woman who,
intellectually, would be ranked frs: in
the convent. In any sphere she would
! have been counted a. "A distinguished
woman. She belonged by birth, as by
| talent, to family Of lawyers, and it
| was an endless source Of amusement to
| me to watch her as she sat, perfectly
motionlcss, with her hands claspcd to-
| gethcr, arguing with lawyer-lilsc acu-
men some point in dispute. ] once did
! venture To ask her what could have in
| duccd her To enter a convent For amy
one who knew the woman the naiyct
! of her confession was charming.
In the oldcn days, before Elizabeth
was born, an aunt Of hers the only sis
| ter Of her mother had excited the un-
! dying cnmity of her family by bccom-
| ing n nun. The home atmosphere be-
ing decidedly anti-clerical, this aunt
had been held up as an object Of the
| strongest rcprobation to Elizabeth's
childish Imagination, and from her ear
licst infancy it had been impressed up
on her by her mother that the one
| thing she must not do was To become "A
! nun. As her mind was decidedly of the
combatve order, the natural result of
this system Of training was that rs soon
rs she arrived at an age tn take the ini-
tiativc she began To regard convent life
! somewhat in the light of a forbidden
! pleasure. Noticing this her family re-
doubled their threats and warnings,
with the result that as soon rs she at
tanned her majority she entered a oon.
vent. She was the only one Of the Sis
tcrs who ever discussed theology with
me. The others, with a sort of innate
courtesy, tacitly ignored the fact that ]
was not of the same persuasion rs they
Then there was Sister Blandlne. u
delicate, consumptive girl, who seemed
! to be fading away before our eyes, She
had lately Joined the oommunltyi but
even convent life can not heal n broken
heart, and her story, rs her fate, was
written only too clearly on her face.
Sister Octavie. who was nearly nine
ty. was the only one who seemed TO re-
| grct tho outside world. III she saw me
ut my window, with y significant nod
she would point 10 her chaplet knew
we'll what was meanti as soon as her
string of prayers was said she would
come and pay me II visit, And then
the speed with which she would rattle
through those beads, SO rs not to miss
her chat! For, rs | soon discovered.
their view of silence was allowed to
yield place to their sense of hospitality.
| soon knew the history of her life, il
life it could bc called. Sho was brought
up In - convent, and when her educa-
tion was complete, ut the request of
her friends (no dowry, and therefore
no husband having bceu found) she
took the veil. She could not remember
! having walked in n street in her life!
With this was connected her greatest
earthly disappointment. Some three
years before | met her she had been
sent from Dion To the then new con-
vent at Turgia. The Journey, about
! torN hours (lt l. contrary To tnclr RUE
to travel oXprcrs), She went through
without stopping, sustained, as she in
moment Of confidence told me, by
the hope of Just for once trayorsing the
streets on foot, BUT. alas for the frailty
of human hopes the Lady Superior,
knowing nothing of the secret long
ing of Octavic's soul, rashly deciding
that woman Of more than eighty, at
the end of such n journey. would be
only too glad to drive, sent close car
riagc 10 meet her at the railway sta
tion There were tears in the poor old
woman's eyes rs She said To me: And
now | shall never walk in street, ~
AL The Year ROHRd.
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Aa,t Ernp, 4 ipnid Enat